i have a habit of not finishing my last beer so i put it in the fridge before going to bed and then sometime during the day i can drink the rest of the beer and it is perfectly justifiable because the beer is already opened. ta da.
i have a neurologist appointment tomorrow to see try and figure out why my body goes numb sometimes.
did anyone see that creepy little hercules kid on tlc last nite? you know that muscle freak who is 11 or something? gross city.
i could never ever EVER be a junky. last nite i administered some medicine to fil’s pops and it took forever for me to actually get the balls to slam it into his thigh. i was sweating. alack i eventually got it in and voila, now i am a nurse.
i was in blythe heaven last nite for a little while. holy cuteness! “they’re all LOOKING at me.” says fil.
we were at valerie’s and i was tricked into drinking a non-alcoholic beck’s. well, i wasn’t really tricked into it, it was put before me and i just started on drinking and valerie goes why the fuck is she drinking that, then i noticed the label. fuck you fil. anyhoo, eventually i was plastered and obnoxious and talking really loud. had caribbean food that actually didn’t burn my face off with provocative hotness. went to velvet underground to stand around and look cooler than everybody else, oh wait, that happens everywhere i go. took the bus back and sat beside some dude wearing pink shiny pleather pants and not in an ironic way. fuck i was wasted. the cabbie we had at some point of the nite name-dropped all the famous people he ever gave rides to. jennifer tilley, YOU DON’T SAY!? he said his name was mohammed and then laughed and said yeah but all cabbie’s are named that and i was thinking FINALLY one of you’s guys owns up to that!
everyone go to the blythe party at magic pony tonite on queen. it goes ’til 11pm.
ok bye.
holy shit the arcade fire are retardedly cute and amazing and they perform like autistic eccentrics. brilliant. just so happens that every show we go to we have the luck of being near the few dudes in the room who are REALLY into the music and dance like the biggest gays you ever done see and their hair is always big and ugly. unngh. one guy was holding up a lighter the entire time right in front of us. like the only guy. it was like his first concert or something. he was even swaying with some chick leaning against him and his arm in the air with the lighter. so cool.
turns out i can play the drums afterall and our band is called the jamaican beef patties and we are amazing and sometimes we wear masks when we play, you know the one from SCREAM, yes, that one. and we only take breaks to watch the dogs hump each other. two big and black and hairy cavemen who can’t speak. but then i get bored of playing the same beat over and over again so i try and do something else and i get yelled at ‘cos it was finally the “bridge” and i turned into a selfish drum nazi.
i think i am going to start a new blog for the ten-thousandth time and it will be called the cat update blog and i will document every little thing that happens between me and the cats. for example: i went to the kitchen to get some water and the cat was lying on the floor and looked at me. two hours later i turned on the television and the cat yawned.
thrilling news, i know.
someone asked how that autistic girl story ends and if she was faking it.
she stabs the guy in the hand with scissors and then they go for a drive and he drives them both off a cliff and they die.
